


The strong and the weak

by obscureshipyard



Series: Hydra Husbands crossovers through space and time [3]
Category: 300 (Movies), Kingdom (TV 2014), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Flirting, Boys Kissing, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Flirting, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Kingdom Verse, M/M, Scyllias in that skirt, fragile masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureshipyard/pseuds/obscureshipyard
Summary: During a fitness convention Alvey Kulina meets a very interesting man. He says his name is Scyllias. He says a lot of things but Alvey has a little trouble focusing considering the man is devastatingly gorgeous and dressed up like a Greek warrior, leather skirt and all. Alvey is drawn to the man like no one before, it all comes to a head in dark closet secreted away from prying eyes and ears.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, Scyllias/Alvey Kulina
Series: Hydra Husbands crossovers through space and time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101521
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The strong and the weak

**Author's Note:**

> I have been looking for a way to use Scyllias from '300:Rise of and Empire' and now here it is! Alvey is as taken with that ludicrous and delicious outfit as we all were.
> 
> Thanks to TemptedForTea for the beta/edits!

Alvey was already exhausted. He and Lisa worked their asses off to get the Navy Street booth ready for the FIT Expo. They got everything set up just in time, and the morning of the event went off without a hitch. A few interested hopefuls had even signed up, before the main events of the expo kicked off.

The many looky-loos taking up time and space in the booth, with no real interest in joining, were starting to wear on Alvey's patience. After he snapped at the third overweight tourist type, Lisa intervened. Her pretty smile and deep cleavage smoothed the situation over quickly.

So now Alvey was on reconnaissance duty. The convention center was massive. The expo took up the largest hall and a few of the smaller ones for celebrity meet and greets, and panels. 

Alvey kept himself distracted, checking out the booths for competing gyms. Most places fit into discrete categories, be it catering to women, men, weightlifters, MMA fighters, boxers, old folks, or those big full-service spa-gym-health club monstrosities.

One booth in particular caught Alvey's eye. Well, the six-foot-two shirtless man in a leather skirt caught his eye. The stark black and red banner above the booth proclaimed it to be for ‘Hot Gates Gym’. Under the title read the tag line: _“Look like a God. Fight like a Spartan”_

Alvey had heard the buzz about the place a few weeks back. Some Greek-American crew expanding out from central LA opening a few new gyms. One of which was not too far from Navy Street.

Alvey walked closer, watching passersby ogle the scantily clad man. Some smiled, others frowned. The man posed for pictures with anyone who asked. He would take up a fighting stance, even pulled out a short sword for one particularly enthusiastic young boy to hold in the photo.

Two separate groups of giggling women stopped to take selfies with him. His long arms were big enough to wrap around one of the groups entirely. In the other he picked one of the women up onto his shoulder. Her squealing laugh hurt Alvey's ears.

The guy was impressive. When his warrior-like scowl broke into a dazzling smile, even Alvey felt a weird little bubble in his gut. Quickly it turned into something tight in his belly and set Alvey's feet in motion.

Before he had even half a plan he was standing before Mr. Tall-dark-and-shirtless. Green eyes stared down at Alvey, his left eye looked slightly off of center. Alvey wondered at it, before realizing he was just staring.

“What the fuck is with the get up?” Alvey spat out. He had no defense for his staring, so offense was his only option.

“Promotion.” The guy smiled wide with outstretched arms. Jesus, the dude was even more massive up close. His uneven face held an optimistic joy that put Alvey on edge.

“Usually, it’s not dudes in skirts doing the promotion.” Alvey raised a dark eyebrow, letting his eyes sweep all the way down to shapely calves. He wasn’t used to seeing hairy legs at the end of such a short skirt. That knot settled into Alvey’s stomach again. But he didn't stop to think about it.

“Caught _your_ eye. Even brought you over here to talk to me.” The man crossed his arms over his chest, his expression one of challenge. Alvey let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. The guy had a quick mind and a smart mouth. Alvey always liked that in an opponent.

“So, where do you work out?” The taller man relaxed a bit, shifting his weight to his back leg, but not dropping his irritating smile.

“Navy Street.”

“Heard about them, small but decent.” He nodded.

“Bigger doesn’t mean better. We train champions.” Alvey puffed out his chest. He could stand this fucking weirdo only so much. No one talked shit about his business and got away with it.

“You’re Alvey Kulina.” The guy uncrossed his arms, placing his hands on his hips.

Alvey's eyes were drawn to the sway of the leather strips of the man's skirt as they moved with his body. “Last I checked.”

“I’m Scyllias. I’ll spare you my last name. It’s long and it’s Greek and you’d probably just fuck it up.” The man extended a hand looking like he was holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, probably.” Alvey took that hand in his own. The grip was strong and surprisingly warm. "So, 'Hot Gates'? You guys going for the whole gay market or just metrosexual?"

Scyllias broke out in a full belly laugh, squeezing Alvey's hand tight before dropping it. Their conversation flowed with jabs and jokes, brash comparisons, and crude innuendos. Alvey found he enjoyed talking to the man.

“Scyllias.” A deep baritone voice interrupted Alvey in the midst of his favorite joke about a priest and a construction worker. Scyllias’ face quickly schooled into something more closed off, setting Alvey’s hackles on edge.

The approaching man was in a similar garb, dark leather skirt and arm bracers. A blue cape swept the floor behind him as he walked, affixed around his throat with a heavy metal clasp. Piercing blue eyes stared Alvey down as he moved to stand in the booth near Scyllias.

“Themistocles.” Scyllias greeted the man with a nod. “This is Alvey Kulina. He owns Navy Street.”

“A pleasure.” Themistocles didn’t move to extend his hand. Just as well, Alvey didn’t feel like shaking it.

“Yeah, nice to meet ya.” Alvey turned to eyeball the crowd. Torn between just turning tail to walk away and saying the first insulting thing that came to mind. Alvey was surprised Themistocles solved the problem for him.

“Scyllias, why don’t you go to lunch? I'll take over the booth for the hour, or until Calisto comes to relieve me.”

“There’s a couple of pretty good food places here. Overpriced, but a lot of low carb options.” The words practically jumped out of Alvey’s mouth. Keeping up this strange and instant kinship with Scyllias was too tempting to pass up.

“You gonna risk being seen with me in uniform?” Scyllias waggled his eyebrows.

“Of course, how else am I gonna be the first one in line to laugh at you?”

“Asshole. Lead the way.” They both chuckled as Alvey led them towards the food tables and tents. Neither looked back as Themistocles watched them go, nor saw the knowing look on his pinched face.

“I feel sorry for the stick shoved so far up that guy’s ass.” Alvey griped when they were just out of earshot.

“He’s a good boss, great leader. But yeah, he’s got a worse resting bitch face than I do. Not the greatest at first impressions either, especially with competitors.”

 _Competitors,_ Alvey hadn’t thought about it like that. It was true, Scyllias was competition. The fact that Alvey felt so at ease around him was odd. They just kind of clicked and Alvey had no idea what to do with that. Some strange magnetic pull was keeping him stuck to Scyllias’ side and wanting to be there.

The guy was funny, and he laughed at Alvey's jokes. He was hot, something Alvey could appreciate objectively. Scyllias wasn't trying to needle trade secrets out of him, so what was the harm?

They stopped at three different vendors before settling on tacos. Everything was ridiculously expensive, but they paid it no mind, having too good a time teasing each other about their weird diets and restrictions. They settled down at a tiny table set up along the exterior windows of the hall.

“Better watch that girlish figure of yours.” Brock said, finishing off his second taco as Scyllias dug into his fourth. Their legs brushed past each other occasionally as they leaned in to eat. 

“Why watch mine, when I can watch yours?” Scyllias stuck out his tongue before tucking back into his final taco.

“Ha, ha, fuck you.” Alvey laughed. He liked how unflappable Scyllias seemed no matter how much Alvey pestered him. He was used to being told to 'calm down' or 'back off' when he ribbed people. People who didn’t know him usually couldn’t stand Alvey's intensity after the first twenty minutes.

More than an hour had passed in each other’s company, and yet Scyllias was still there. The taller man stood from the table once they finished eating. Alvey felt compelled to stand with him. That weird attractive force kept them together as they walked along the outer edge of the room and away from the crowds.

They hovered closer and closer. Talking about old victories and losses lead to discussions about personal training regimens and fighting styles.

They wandered out of the vender areas towards some of the quieter halls that weren't part of the expo. Two were taken up by corporate functions, some team building corporate bullshit. He and Scyllias traded stories about jobs they had worked outside of the fitness industry. They both relished being in their positions now running small businesses despite the stress of feeling so close to the edge of losing everything at times.

Scyllias tested a door to one of the empty halls, it opened with a quiet sigh. He stepped inside without breaking stride in the conversation. Alvey followed him, without a thought of protest.

“Greco-Roman wrestling…it's just not my style. I can appreciate grappling just fine, but you can’t do any kicks, or even grab legs. Jesus, you’re just taking away half my arsenal to fight with.” Alvey’s loud bitching echoed off the walls of the empty hall.

The floor space was bare. The wall of windows on the opposite side let warm sunlight stream in, giving the space an echoing glow.

“It’s more challenging. That’s the point.” Scyllias leaned back against a closed door along the back wall.

“That’s the point--that’s a shit point. Fucking gay as shit, just grab-assing each other the whole time.” Alvey moved closer, feeling that magnetic attraction pull him in as Scyllias watched him move.

“Hey, at least it’s not Turkish wrestling.” The wicked smile curled Scyllias’ face in that irresistible way.

“I don’t know, I look pretty good oiled up.” Alvey leaned on the wall next to his companion. He stood close, close enough to feel the heat from Scyllias’ exposed skin. The man was a furnace.

Alvey’s eyes dropped down along Scyllias’ arms following the lightly tanned skin to the leather forearm bracers and matching leather belt slung low on Scyllias’ hips.

“I bet.” Scyllias turned from where he leaned on the wall. He moved into Alvey’s space slowly, gracefully. His hands bracketed each of Alvey’s shoulders. He kept his body back, arm’s length away, but leaned his head forward, just slightly. 

Green eyes looked hungry as Scyllias stared him down. “Hey Alvey...ever fucked around with a guy in a skirt?”

Alvey's head swam. His thoughts turned hazy and a little confused. “No.”

“Want to?” Scyllias looked at him. He was expecting a response. Alvey knew he should have an answer, it should be easy. A guy--a _male_ \--was asking him to hook up. But it was Scyllias. Alvey's brain short circuited. He didn't have an answer. Nothing made sense.

Scyllias pulled away. He reached for the handle of the door near where they were standing. It opened to reveal a large, unlit storage closet. Scyllias stepped inside without a word or a glance back at Alvey.

The door stood open.

Alvey looked between the doorway and the rest of the room. He felt sick and giddy. He rubbed his hands over his face, completely lost as to what to do. Panic told him to run, but that attraction he’d been feeling since he first laid eyes on Scyllias kept him rooted.

Over and over again, he decided for and against going, staying, leaving, walking in. Alvey turned his back to the door as his gut clenched tight. With a quick pivot of his feet Alvey moved into the shadow of the closet. His face burned hot, but he ignored all thought.

A warm hand pulled him away from the closing door and deeper inside. Suddenly, there was nothing but darkness and Scyllias. Alvey found himself panting for breath as Scyllias stripped his shirt. They stumbled closer in the dark until Alvey's back was pressed against one of the high stacks of stored folding tables. Scyllias closed in on him.

Fingertips trailed over Alvey’s chest. They left little trails of goosebumps in their wake. A warm breath passed over Alvey's panting mouth. He jerked his head back, skull bouncing off the tables behind him. Scyllias laughed knowingly.

"Come on, Alvey. I _get_ that you're not gay. Kissing while we fuck around won't make you gay." Scyllias wrapped his fingers around Alvey’s jaw. His strong hand pulled Alvey in but he didn’t make a move to lock lips.

"You can worry about what people think of you out there, that's your baggage. But right here, none of that matters. It's just you and me." They stood in stillness as Alvey processed the words. There was no judgement, no whining, or pressuring.

Alvey pictured Scyllias’ pink lips. That jagged scar cut from jaw to just under the swell of the man’s lower right lip. The flesh itself was unmarred, perfect, and fascinating. Why could he picture them so clearly? Why had he been staring at them all day?

Alvey snapped. Launching forward into a kiss, he forced his tongue into Scyllias’ mouth. Alvey pressed his body forward to throw the taller man off balance. Scyllias went willingly, opening his mouth so Alvey could taste every part of him. But his hands weren’t complacent.

By the time Alvey realized his pants were open and his cock out, he was already half hard and half out of his mind. He didn’t care that Scyllias was a man, he didn’t care they were in some random storage closet and could be found at any moment. He just wanted more.

They battled for dominance with tongue and lips. Scyllias pressed Alvey back against the stack of tables moaning in the darkness of the room. The heavy slap of leather hitting the concrete floor proved Alvey's success at getting Scyllias' skirt off.

A new wave of confused anxiety crashed over him. Lust still burned in Alvey's veins, but Scyllias' bare cock, hard and hot against his skin, was jarring. His hands stilled thier pawing at Scyllias' backside. Should he reach for him? Wouldn't that be expected?

Scyllias was jerking him off at a lazy pace that felt amazing. Was it rude that Alvey wasn't returning the favor? Was this a line he could just cross? Scyllias must have noticed his turmoil because he pulled back. The cool air between them was enough to shock Alvey out of his thoughts.

"Don't worry, I'm only gonna make you feel good." Scyllias' voice was rough with arousal. He pulled Alvey in close but turned him so he faced the tall stack of tables. Panic shot through Alvey’s veins, but the feeling of Scyllias’ hot flesh pressed against his own was too good.

Wet, sucking kisses soothed Alvey’s nerves, as Scyllias’ hands stroked along his sensitive skin from chest back down to his very interested cock. Scyllias rutted against the bare skin of Alvey's ass. His thick cock fit perfectly between Alvey’s asscheeks, sweat easing the friction. 

"You moan so pretty." Scyllias' humid breath caused a shiver to race down Alvey's spine. His compliments paired with the movements of their bodies had Alvey's eyes dropping closed.

"Fuck, baby, if we had more time… the things I would do to you." Scyllias licked a hot stripe along Alvey's neck. His teeth followed. His big hand worked Alvey's rigid cock until it was drooling pre-come all over his fist.

"Want to watch this gorgeous body bounce up and down on my cock. You want that baby? Want to ride me--let me make you come?" Scyllias’ grip tightened as Alvey rutted up into his hand and back against his cock.

Everything was a blur of confused nonsense. Alvey didn't have enough blood in his brain to think. Scyllias was so strong, his body so warm. His words were promises Alvey barely understood, but he was completely on board.

He was so fucking close. Just a little more… just... Alvey reached back, grabbed a handful of Scyllias’ hair and yanked hard. Alvey’s body went rigid as he came. The grip on his cock disappeared though the arm around his chest remained.

Alvey floated in a haze for a moment as he felt Scyllias fisting himself for the last few strokes it took for the larger man to get off. Thankfully Scyllias had enough foresight to not blow his load all over Alvey’s back. The sticky mess would not only be uncomfortable but impossible to explain.

They stood there for a moment, sweat, and come heavy in the air. Scyllias pressed against Alvey’s back. He supported them both, leaning up against the stacked tables. Reality seeped back in as they drifted apart. Alvey pulled his shorts and pants back up, waiting for that awkward feeling that always came after a rushed hookup.

Should he ask for Scyllias’ number? If Scyllias asked would Alvey give the man his number? Did the Scyllias ever want to do this again? Should he just play it cool and pretend it didn’t even happen?

“I should get back to my booth, can’t tell what my idiot boys might get up to.” Alvey tried to keep the tension out of his voice. It was a plausible excuse. He had been gone a long time.

“I know the feeling. My son was supposed to come relieve me before we even started talking, but I hadn’t seen or heard from him… still haven’t.” Scyllias had his phone in his hand. The light was obnoxious in the quiet darkness. Alvey had no idea where he had kept it, especially during--

“You got kids?” He asked, honestly curious. Alvey had made certain assumptions about a man dressed in a skirt hooking up with random men he just met at a convention. Having kids didn’t exactly fit those assumptions.

“One, Calisto, he’s an up and comer, but still green.” He pushed open the closet door, tossing Alvey's shirt back to him.

“Yeah, I got Jay and Nate. They got promise, but only a few brain cells between them sometimes.” Alvey blinked in the sunlight of the empty room. He felt good, relaxed from the orgasm. 

“Like father, like sons.” Scyllias joked as they made their way from the empty hall and back to the FIT expo.

Conversation about fatherhood and embarrassing stories about their sons flowed between them. Alvey couldn’t believe how quickly they were back to bantering, as if their sudden tryst had all been in Alvey's head.

But the tender flesh where Alvey's shirt rubbed at his neck and the waistband of his shorts pressed into finger shaped bruises attested that it really had happened. Alvey's phone chirped in his pocket. A message from Lisa flashed across the screen asking where the hell he was.

"Listen man, I gotta--"

"It was nice meeting you, Alvey. Even better getting to know you." Scyllias put his hand forward.

Alvey took it. They shook, but he didn't let go. Something stung in Alvey's chest. Scyllias only smiled as he let go first.


End file.
